


June, 1782

by Other_Pens



Series: Oak Tree Vignettes [1]
Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Fluff, I know the timeline reaches back into late Georgian for several Frorge fics, Regency, but that is a tagging inaccuracy I can live with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7974739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Other_Pens/pseuds/Other_Pens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of moments in the lives of Freddie and George. And a tree.<br/>[Reformatted the original posting order in the series, because chronology.]</p><p>In this episode, Freddie gains a nickname.</p>
            </blockquote>





	June, 1782

Mrs. Haverleigh was in her element, where the servants had spread the picnic beneath the oak tree, and she and the nursery governess held court over her own three children, as well as the Bexley girl. Elizabeth had been a great friend to the late Lady Bexley, and for the memory of that sweet, frail woman, and for the sake of her poor, motherless children, she was determined to do all she could for them. Sir Arthur could not entirely object to the sensible advice and respectable capabilities of his nearest neighbour, even if the family lacked a title, or even connections to a title. Haverleigh was a gentleman, nonetheless, and Sir Arthur only took a passing interest in his heir, and thought next to nothing of his daughter. If others wished to show his children the affection he thought unnecessary, that was their own time and efforts to squander.  
   
Frederica had been to stay with the Haverleighs often, for as long as she could remember. Her mother had taken her on calls, once upon a time, and, in the year since Lady Bexley's death, the little girl's time with the neighbours had only increased--though she greatly disliked the time she was apart from her baby brother, and anxiously looked him over for signs of illness upon her every return, even if she was only gone to stay overnight.  
   
The day being fine, Mrs. Haverleigh had arranged a picnic for the children, and to celebrate her eldest son's holiday from school. George was pleased to be home, and happy to join in all the old games with his brother and sister, and took special care to include their little neighbour. Frederica was pleased at the attention, and delighted with her playmates--it was all so different from the quiet and solitary life in the nursery at Hillshaw, though that was now a bit more lively with the addition of little Peregrine. (She, alone, had taken to calling her brother Perry, the servants being under strict instruction to refer to him by his full name.)  
   
The Haverleigh children took up a game of tag, and even with George's generous help and letting himself be caught by a child half his size, Frederica soon grew tired, and crept to sit on a shady corner of the rug beneath the oak-tree.  
   
"Are you too hot? Would you like something to drink, my dear?" asked Mrs. Haverleigh kindly. Frederica took the cup carefully in both hands and eagerly drank up every drop of the cool sweet-sour lemonade, but the child still seemed very quiet. "What are you thinking of, Frederica? You look far too serious for such a lovely day."  
   
Frederica had leaned her chin upon her brown little paw, looked at kind, loving, motherly Mrs. Haverleigh, and two large tears welled up in her wide, childish eyes.  
   
"Dear girl! Whatever is the matter?"  
   
"I m-miss P-Perry," she stammered, bravely trying to sniff back her sobs.  
   
"Oh, _sparrow_!" clucked Mrs. Haverleigh. "You will go home to your little brother this very afternoon!"  
   
"Will I?"  
   
"Yes, of course--this was only going to be a short stay. It was all arranged, so. Didn't your father explain it?"  
   
Frederica shook her head.  
   
"He never tells me anything," she explained quietly. "He doesn't look at me. He's pleased of having Perry, but he's not pleased of having me. He said so."  
   
"...oh, my dear...dear child," said Mrs. Haverleigh, pity writ large upon her kind face. "Your father...is..." What she would like to call Sir Arthur Bexley was not fit to be repeated in front of children, and so she stopped herself. "...is a singular sort of man, I'm afraid. But if he ever does anything to upset you, you must come to stay with us--your and your brother, once your brother is a little older."  
   
"I won't be sent away?"  
   
"No, I won't allow that. Your brother needs you, doesn't he?"  
   
Frederica nodded fervently.  
   
"I look after him. Well, so does Fanny, but Fanny's going to marry the coachman's son, so I must always stay with Perry."  
   
"Of course," agreed Mrs. Haverleigh. "And no matter what your father says, you need not fear that he will separate you from your brother."  
   
"...oh, _good_!" cried Frederica with evident relief.  
   
_How long had that fear been hanging over that poor child's head?_ wondered Mrs. Haverleigh, with a few new choice descriptors to add to her likeness of Sir Arthur (also unfit for the ears of children.)  
   
"Where's Frederica gone?" asked Phillip, looking about him.  
   
"She's over with Mama!" said Catherine, pointing to the tree.  
   
George cupped his hands around his mouth to call her back to their games.  
   
"Fredericaaa--'sakes, that's a mouthful for such a tiny girl," he muttered, before trying again. "Freds! _Freddie_! Come on, we're going to play hide-and-seek down in the hollow!"  
   
And Freddie ran to join them.


End file.
